A Glimpse into Fantasy
by WhiteMacabre001
Summary: A girl is whisked away to Neverland by a strange green eyed boy who never grows up.
1. Chapter 1

With him, anything is possible.

Finally! After endless weeks of the Rents hounding me to do my chores, do my homework, and watch my language, they would be spending their entire evening at some big-wig charity ball while I had the whole house to…my…self. I was practically jumping up and down to contain my excitement. Plus it was Friday, which meant I could stay up all night and sleep in Saturday. But of course, I remained cool as a cucumber in-front of them as they fussed and touted off the emergency contact list but to exclude Aunt Joan because she was in the process of getting a new cell number. Nodding my head to all of their instructions, I felt oddly like one of the baseball bobble-heads my dad kept in his man-cave in the basement.

I mean c'mon, I was sixteen going on seventeen. Why didn't they trust me not to burn the house down? I apparently had one incident when I was a wee tot that carried into my adolescence. Way to go me! I had to almost physically shove them out the door when their limo came.

"Ok, that's great. Have fun guys! Bye!" I kicked the door closed behind me.

The rumbling of the engine faded into the night before I thrusted my arms in the air.

"Freedom!"

The clock in the hall chimed nine times and I fought back a yawn. So much for letting loose and being wild, my bedtime was upon me and I was succumbing to its call.

"No! I never get the house, I must fight it! Must stay awake."

I must have fallen asleep because when I came to, after jumping up five inches hearing a crash upstairs, a dark spot of drool marked the couch pillow. Wiping the side of my mouth, I kept silent and waited to hear more. We had cats so crashes were not new, and when I heard nothing else I shrugged and grabbed the remote. CRASH! BANG! I gasped and my heart lept into my throat at that one. That was not cat. I'm not sure what it was but that was no cat. It sounded like a cannon-ball was shot through the side of my house. I could hear my heart beating in my ears and I set the remote on the coffee table. The bright light from the T.V. screen cast eerie shadows in my den. Cautiously and slowly, I removed the blanket from my legs and tip-toed out to the hall. I was careful to avoid the squeaky planks in my floor. My father hid a gun in his nightstand drawer, that was my mission. The crash came again only doubled, like footsteps. That really got my ticker going. Someone was in my house! Freaking looking for shit to steal.

"The hell they are," I mumbled. "Gotta get that gun."

When I came to the bottom of the stairs, the sounds got louder and more frequent. My thigh muscles were so tense as I ascended the steps I thought they would snap. I looked over the top step, trying to see the intruder. A flash of something dark whizzed by causing me to start. It was big. It was fast. It was in my house. My thoughts of the gun evaporated when I saw the things' speed. The hell was I gonna do now?

"Owch! Jeeze, what is all this?"

What a sweet voice! Even though it was slightly irritated, I couldn't help but want to see the owner of such a voice. A shock of red hair made its presence known and I did a very stupid thing then. I spoke.

"Hey!"

The figure snapped its' head in my direction. And I saw haunting green eyes smolder from the black abyss that was my room. Normal eyes would not have been visible from my distance and lack of light. These eyes were not normal, not human. I shuddered at the thought. The figure held fast, pretty much like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Then, to my dismay and possible life, it rose up and came towards me. As it drew nearer, its' pale skin carved away from the dark cloak, revealing arms and a face. But the face was the most frightening thing about it. Strike the fact that a stranger with glowing green eyes had broken into my house and that I was an attractive woman alone and at risk for possible rape. His face, 'cause once I got a good look at the figure it clearly was male…and kind of young, was not of this world. It was horrifying yet it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"My name's not 'Hey'," the voice came again. "It's Peter. And I've been searching for you."

Those eyes anchored me to the stairs and I felt helpless.

"Why?"

The porcelain face, with its square jaw and fine lips curled back into a grin.

"Because silly, we're going to Neverland."


	2. Chapter 2

I blinked rapidly, assimilating what the pale faced angel said.

"Sorry 'bout the mess. Didn't mean to break your window." He said with casual offhandedness.

Gaping like a fish out of water, I must have been a sight. My brain function was a negative ten as he prattled on about how wonderful Neverland was blah, blah, blah. And while he went on, I took this time to analyze him and his abhorred clothes. The dark green shirt he wore resembled a wife-beater with old black lettering on the front; like it came from a dumpster. His pants were actually leggings with the shoe sewn into it. An old black jacket covered his back. I could smell the old leather from where I was perched. The green eyed boy mentioned a fact about faries that made me bark out.

"Wat! Neverland? Like in the Disney movie? Are you shitting me?"

I reeled back and stood up. Those piercing green eyes followed my movements.

"Seriously, all jokes aside, why are you in my house kid? What in Heaven's name are you wearing? Get the hell out before I call the police. What do you want?"

The green eyed boy studied me intently, like my mom does when she thinks I'm lying to her. It made me nervous.

"To take you to Neverland. You are unhappy with the grown-ups. That's why I'm here."

I watched him spread his thin but muscled legs and place his hands on his hips. He puffed out his lean chest like a rooster. "To save you!"

I raised a brow, and cocked my hip. Was he serious? My life officially sucked this moment. Plus, it was just my luck that on the first night to myself in weeks, I had to deal with not only a B and E, but this psychotic tween. "You save me? Oh please. This is ridiculous. Your parents must be worried sick. Get out of my house before I shoot you and call the police. Or just the former I haven't decided yet."

This Peter boy threw back his head and let out a shriek of animalistic cackles. I had to cover my ears it was so obnoxious.

"Shut up!"

At once Peter stopped and set his face hard as stone. The sudden change in expression was too fluid, like villain in a cartoon. His emerald eyes fixed on my body, scrutinizing my pajamas. Feeling the flush rise to my face, I covered my breasts and glared at him.

"I follow no grownup's orders. They steal happiness away."

"Get the f### out of my house." I said coldly.

The green eyed boy brought a thin finger to his chin and thought for a bit, as if I had asked him the meaning of life. With a slight tilt of his head, I saw what looked like a pointed ear stick out beyond that wild mess of auburn hair.

"If I go, you're coming with me." He said with surprising finality.

"Pfft. The hell I am." I replied. "You touch me and I'll rip your nuts off."

Peter raised his brows at that, then grinned with a challenge sturring in his eyes.

"That's if you can catch me before I grab ya."

"Try it and you die."

"I'm Peter Pan. I can avoid anything. Even death."

"I don't believe you're the real Peter Pan. That is just a story some guy wrote in England. I think you're just some stupid kid whose great plan to rob a house has gone horribly wrong."

"Well, I think you're a caged soul wanting to be released. You have strong magic in you, yet you are falling into the adults traps." He said solemnly. " You may not be aware of it, but your magic called out to me."

"Magic?" I said incredulously.

Peter flashed me another grin. "All humans have magic. It is more prominate in youth, then fades as they get older. You are one of the few I have met in my long life that still has their full magic."

I shook my hands in an exasperated manner, the wheels spinning in my head. Peter Pan, magic, fairies, I had no time for this nonsense. I had to clean up the broken glass, and explain to my parents about the broken window. Or maybe I should just leave a Goodbye note and run away now before they could unleash their wrath. My parents were not drill sergeants, but they liked order in their house. I shoved passed the green eyed boy, quickly musing at his muscle tone, and went into my room.

There was glass EVERYWHERE. And I was barefoot. This would not do. As I turned to go get my sneakers from the hall closet, an invisible force wrenched me backwards. Peter was standing so close to me that I met his inquisitive emerald eyes, their pupils constricting and expanding to study my face. I let out a scream and flailed back. Which was not good because there was a large pile of shards awaiting my fall.

"Watch out!"

I felt peter grab my wrist and tug me forward. Adrenaline pumped through me so much I swear I could see into the future. I clung to the worn shirt he wore, taking in the scent of woods and honeysuckle. I was overcome by peace as I inhaled deeply the perfume of his skin. I distantly felt his hands around me. For being so young, he had a man's grip. My whole body felt light in his hold, like I was soaring through the sky. It took me a little while after calming down a few notches to realize that my feet were not touching the floor. Peter grinned again at my horrified expression as I looked down and saw my rug a foot below me.

"You're pretty light you know?" He said almost reading my mind. "You still gonna try to cut my nuts of?"

I managed to shoot him a glare. But fear overcame me and I struggled against him.

"I will once you put me down! Help!"

Peter looked confused. His mouth puckered in a slight pout. "What's wrong? You're not hurt are you? I tried to grab ya in time."

"But why can you levitate!" I yelled right into a pointed ear.

That seemed to rattle him and he dropped me onto the wood floor. Ignoring the burning pain in my back and elbows, I crawled/ran away towards my parents room.

"Stay away from me you freak! Get out of my house! What are you!"

Peter rubbed his sore ear still floating in mid-air. "You have a good scream. HaHa! You'd make a great Lost Boy."

"What!" I stopped and spun around.

Then, faster than before, Peter swooped over to me and scooped me into his arms.

"Yup. I'm sure of it. You'll fit right in. You can be our new mother." He said giving me a wink.

I frowned and forced the blush to go down.

"Let me go damnit! I'm no one's f***ing mother! I don't even like kids!"

I fought against his hold, pushing, kicking, clawing, and punching. His grip did not lessen, only got tighter.

"Let me go! I'll give you money, jewelry, just let me go!"

The red-haired boy easily floated over to the broken window, and I felt the chill night air. I stared up at his face and got goose-bumps. An impish glow came from his skin, reflecting the moon's light. His ears were pointed, like an elf's. His jaw and neck were flawless; smooth flesh cloaking chorded muscles and bone. The mischievous glint in his eyes reminded me of a tiger, calculating yet entrancingly beautiful.

"See the second star to the right? That's Neverland. That is where we are going, so hold on."

I didn't have time to refuse. With a deep crouch, Peter leapt from my window and ascended I into the air like a jet. The chilly wind cut at my shoulders and neck, causing me to bury my face into the crook of his shoulder. Oh Gods, his scent was intoxicating. It was like a bright summer day. And deep inside of me somewhere I battled the opposing feelings of fear and attraction for the little jerk.

"We're almost there. Look."

"No. I want to go back. Take me home." I said shivering.

I felt his flight falter and his grip constrict. Peter cleared his throat and chuckled.

"Aw, c'mon, stop it. Don't you want to have fun and be free of rules? If you come to Neverland, you can have those things and more."

I shook now, he was really taking me to a fantasy island. Fisting the material of his shirt, I bit my lips to not start crying.

"I really, really want to go home. I'm fine with rules. I love that my Rents are hardasses," I felt the hot tears fall down my face but could not tell if they were from the cold winds or the mixture of my fear and frustration. "I'm asking you nicely; please take me home?"

When I got no response, I was at a loss. Up in the sky, hundreds of feet with some crazed elf kid basically telling me that I was his prisoner, I cracked. I started to cry. I cried deep harsh sobs of disbelief and anguish. I was even more upset that Peter ignored me. All I wanted was a nice, quiet night alone…not this hot mess. I was beyond consoling when I heard, through my gasps and heaves, the sweetest sound. The highs and lows of the sound were melodious and rich. The timber almost echoed off the clouds. I looked up to see the dark green emeralds of Peter's eyes closed and his mouth open in song. It was like those old Greek myths of sirens singing beautiful songs to lure weary sailors to their deaths. His pale throat undulated gracefully with each lyric.

The hypnotic music slowed my racing heart and thoughts. I watched him sing, his voice hitting the last melancholy note with deep passion. All was quite for a while after that. I still stared tiredly at him. I wanted to hear more of his song. My eyes pleaded for him to continue. Peter sensed that I wanted, needed more and gave me a kind smile. I let the redness cover my face and the heat to swell in my stomach.

"Feeling better now?"

I nodded mutely and gazed at my reflection within his eyes. Peter smiled wider and brought his forehead to mine. His skin was warm and smooth against me.

"Good. I'm glad. Was worried there for a minute," he said soothingly.

The pulsing of my face increased and I was sure he felt it. Or heard it at least with those ears of his. Weren't elves supposed to have good hearing?

"Neverland is a magical place. Won't you at least see it? If you do not like it I promise I will take you back home?"

My throat closed so my voice squeaked out, "You swear?"

"Scouts honor!" He chimed.

I exhaled the deep breath I unconsciously held and nodded again. "Ok. I'll go to Neverland."

Peter's musical laughter filled my ears and I felt myself melting into his chest. I think Peter could tell because he tightened his grip on my arms. I fell asleep in his arms because when I awoke, I was in a bed of furs with a roaring fire illuminating the many curious faces of young boys.


	3. Chapter 3

I abruptly sat up in the furs; scaring several of the boys away from me.

"Sorry. You must be the Lost Boys? Right? Lost Boys?"

They nodded with eagerness.

"Are you our new mother?" Said one.

"Yes! Are you?" Asked another.

"Have you come to tell us stories!"

I put my hands up, "Wait…wait. Mother? Stories? Where's Peter? I want to talk to him."

The boys looked to each other. "Peter is not here."

"Nope, he's out scouting for the Captain."

"The Captain?" I asked as if this could get any weirder.

"Yes! Father's mortal enemy!" They all shouted.

"Father?"

A smaller boy wearing a raccoon pelt approached me. "Peter is our father. And now you are our mother!"

I bugged my eyes I couldn't believe what they were saying to me.

"You guys say he's out looking for the Capitan? Who is this Captain?"

"Hook of course!" They all shouted.

They all nodded their bushy heads. Oh, yea. That's right. Peter Pan's enemy. Pursing my lips, I too nodded my head and rose. I was determined to find the one who dumped me here alone with these kids and get the Hell out of here. The cave/hideout I was in resembled a hut from the Arthurian legends. A huge heart fire-place roared cooking delicious smelling soup. Cracking my back, I walked over to the many weapons arraigned along the southern wall. They ranged from ancient all the way to modern. I think I even spotted an AK-47.

"Damn. What are all these for? You guys preparing for a war?"

"You never know when you might need to attack."

I whirled around to face that lovely voice. Peter stood in the doorway, clutching two sacks of what appeared to be full of food and…clothes?

"Eat up boys! I've hit the mother-load! Hook didn't know what hit him! Hahahaha!"

A rush of whoops and cheers filled the hideout. Boys ran to grab at the sack containing the food, tearing it to shreds and fighting over the contents. Peter looked at them endearingly, like a doting parent, then set those haunting green eyes on mine. In the firelight, the shadows danced ethereally across his face. Those high cheekbones, perfect lips, they took the appearance of the creature he was. His eyes glittered with whirling emotion as he neared. It's difficult to describe something that is not human, yet shares it's façade. Peter was beautiful. My heart sped up as I watched his auburn hair absorb the light, turning into flames.

"You look well. I brought you something." He said with a child's insinuation.

He tossed the heavy sack over to me, its weight taking me down with it.

"Jebus! What's in here?" I asked winded.

Peter smirked down at me. He looked like an adult then, rather than a 15-16 year old. I had deduced to not succumb to his ways for he was clearly much, much older. If I had to guess, after what I had been through and since he wasn't just some character in a book you found on the required reading lists, Peter must be several hundreds of years old. His eyes showed everything to me. Peter had seen years of death, loss, loneliness, and sadness. How could you not, being forced to stay young for eternity.

"Stuff... Girl stuff."

I snorted and opened the sack.

"Oh, wow!" I was welcomed by beautiful silks, satins, and chiffon.

I pulled out a cute little blue number. It was the perfect size for me! Which would be nice. I was still in my pj's. The light pink tank-top and baggy pants were dirty and smelled like musty fur. I loved how the fabric shone in my hands. Peter came over to me and knelt beside me, taking the hem of the blue dress between his long fingers.

"It's nice isn't it? Such a pretty color right?"

"Yes it is. I can't wait to try it on."

I smiled and looked over at him. I immediately felt the heat rise in my cheeks. He was so close to me. I saw his sharp jaw clench as he swallowed.

"You might need help with the lacings."

His breath came is warm gusts on my lips. I clenched the dress, wrinkling the fabric. His hand covered mine, squeezing my fingers.

"Stop, you'll ruin the dress. It took much for me to snatch it from Hook."

"Why would Hook have a dress?"

Peter chuckled, "it was his mothers. A long time ago."

I blinked. "You stole his mother's clothes?"

The green eyed imp flashed me his customary grin.

"Wow! You look lovely mother!" The boys said.

I did look good in the colonial-esque blue gown. It clung to my waist and shifted over my feet.

"Thank you!" I said tugging one of the sleeves.

The boys rallied around me asking me for stories and hugs. I wasn't a huge fan of kids, but these boys were too cute! So, we settled by the fire, our stomachs full of hot soup, and I told them adventure stories. I told them the SparkNote version of Gone With the Wind. They loved it. Some even got up to reenact the scenes between Rhett and Scarlet, as a joke of course. I laughed, they were too funny. Peter lounged a bit away in a chair that resembled a make-shift throne. It was built out of antlers and fur. And he just stared at me. Resting his chin in his hand, his lean leg casually thrown of the arm, the auburn haired boy watched me like an animal. It sent cold chills to slither up my spine. I tried to glance at him. I couldn't deny that he was handsome sitting there watching me so intensely. That grin, that sly pseudointellectual grin adorned his elvish face yet again. Then, as quickly as the smile came, it faded and Peter clapped his hands twice.

"Ok guys. Time for bed. Mother is tired."

"Awwwwwwww, c'mon Peter!"

"Yeah. Please father?"

My eyebrow twitched. I'm not gonna get used to this mother/father crap. But it was true, I was tired. Hey so would you after being hijacked from your comfy home and taken to this dump, prolly in another universe.

"Peter is right. Time for bed. I will finish it tomorrow ok?"

The boys groaned, but retired nonetheless. I gave each of them a kiss on the forehead and tucked them into their furs. I made sure the last one was sound asleep before I questioned Peter.

"My room? I have a room? What happened to taking me home after I tried Neverland?"

Peter shrugged, "Do you not like Neverland? You haven't even seen half of it yet."

I growled, clenching my teeth. "I never said that I didn't like it!"

"Then you don't have to go home yet!" He smiled.

I deadpanned. The little squid totally used my words against me!

Peter reached up and clasped his hands behind his head. "You can sleep there by the fireplace if you want. The only thing with that is you'll have to keep stoking it, it's a dirty job. Not a good one for a girl. I was going to offer you a room. With a bed, and a quilt, and a roof open to the sky…"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"Oh good Lord. Just the way you said that you reminded me of my ex-boyfriend. Fine I'll take the room. I could use a good night's sleep anyway. Lead on Father."

I bowed at the waist, sweeping out my arm in a mocking gesture. Peter laughed and walked by me. I followed behind him, taking note of how much smoother his gate was than mine. I felt like an elephant and he a gazelle. I have to admit, and I'm not trying to be cougar-ish or anything, but he had such a cute butt.

We reached the room. It was a regular bachelor pad! There were dishes, clothes, and bits of food strewn all over the place. I wouldn't be surprised if the bed had mites in it.

"You've got to be kidding me?"

Peter slapped my back in a very guy way. "I knew you would like it."

"This place is disgusting! Look, there's food everywhere, there's weapons- is that a dead bird?"

The red-haired boy guffawed, "No! That's a fan I stole from the Jolly Rodger."

I went over to the bed and swiped away bread crumbs. Cringing as I sat, I was mildly surprised to find that the mattress was in fact a mattress.

"Huh, and here I half expected it to be straw and twine."

"Nope. Got rid of that stuff years ago. I …"

"What, let me guess. You came to my world and stole it from someone's house. Was that what you were looking for in my house? A mattress?"

Peter clucked his tongue, "You're half right. I took it from a mattress store."

I rolled my eyes at him. I sighed and flopped back onto clean pillows. The bed was comfortable, and the pillows cradled my head perfectly.

"Why am I here in the first place?" I said more to myself then my company.

"I told you. Because you still have your magic."

"If I had magical powers, trust me I'd be far away from my home. Like, I'd be in the tropics drinking a Mai-Tai, and being waited on by handsome men."

Peter chuckled lightly, "Not that kind of magic. You are a mere human. I mean your inner magic; a child's magic."

I closed my eyes. "I'm not following."

"You still believe in the Fae. There is a spark in you that still burns with belief in the impossible."

"Humpf! Yea, I guess. I loved to read about the fairy courts and Celtic and Welsh myths."

"But they aren't myths…and you know it."

I didn't respond because he was right. I stopped telling my friends I thought the Fae were real when they told me I needed to grow up. I figured that if the stories and legends were there, some truth must have been behind it. After years of not talking about it though, I felt that light in me go out, but Peter, a creature of magic and myth, saw that light.

"We will talk more in the days to come. Get some sleep now."

A good night's sleep. That was all I wanted. My eyes got heavy as sleep invaded me. Snuggling into the pillow, I curled onto my side. I was too tired to take the dress off, too tired to care that Peter hovered over me. The boy made not a sound, but I felt those eyes on me. I felt the heat of his breath in my ear, the faintest touch of his fingers on my cheek.

"I'm glad you came to Neverland. Sleep well, tomorrow your adventure begins."


	4. Chapter 4

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Peter!"

I felt the air force itself up out of my stomach, out of my lungs, and fall on deaf ears as I free fell back to Neverland.

My hands grasped aimlessly as I tried to save myself.

"Help! Peter!"

The red haired boy laughed heartily, clutching his belly.

"You are too funny! Just relax and go with it!"

If my eyes could widen any further, they would pop out of my skull.

"You are f****ing insane! Help me!"

"You'll never fly that way! You need to think happy thoughts!" He said as if it were really nothing at all.

"What! How the hell do you expect me to do that!"

Peter guffawed anew. This was one big game for him. Just one big hilarious joke. Oh yes, let us all laugh at me as I plummet to my untimely death. It didn't matter at all to him that once I hit the ground that was it. I didn't get another life to play next turn.

I felt the familiar darkness blur my vision. I knew what was happening, the nausea, the hot and cold flashes. I always got this way whenever I saw needles, I.V's, whacked my ankle or shin with something. I was numb to my white dress whipping my legs. My head became light and my hearing dulled. I felt my heart pound so swiftly in my chest that I thought it stopped beating. I was fainting in mid-air. My life did not flash before my eyes though, they lied! Same thing with that cake my friends talk about. My voice left me and in that instant, I thought for sure I was going to die.

"You're no fun to play with if you give up."

Peter's garbled voice told me. I never hit the ground, but I was pulled into a firm chest and taken to a place I had never been.


	5. Chapter 5

We sat there in the field in silence. The vibes surrounding us crackled with my disdain and anger. If you've ever seen Anime and saw that dark brooding cloud that hovers over the main character's head and glooms the whole room-that was me. But my mind was so frazzled from coping with impending death, that simple thoughts exacting revenge were incredibly painful. Peter must have known how tightly wound I was, even if he ignored it. Earlier he tried to get me to 'play' with him; hide-and-go-seek and the like. All to which I soundly said no and walked away to sit by myself.

"Why are you so mad?"

My jaw dropped and I twisted around, "Ah, maybe because you freaking dropped me? And didn't try to save me? You laughed at me like the crazed sociopath you are."

The glint of hurt that flashed in his ethereal green eyes surprised me. That was the first time he showed some semblance of human emotion. I started to feel bad about what I said. The green-eyed imp slumped his shoulders and floated over to a clear patch of grass. Peter crossed his legs and sat on the ground.

Peter played his pipes, calling the fairies to dance around us. The ancient sounds of the pan pipes made me smile despite myself. I began to enjoy the sun's heat on my face, the tinkling of fairy voices. I tried to stand but my knees buckled. I guess I was still recovering from my near death experience. Peter halted in his playing and checked to see if I was ok. With a cursory glance, he resumed playing. A soft breeze came by, filling the clearing with the scent of Spring flowers. I wobbly rose and stood, waving my arms for balance. I felt like the mermaid testing out her human legs. Once I steadied myself, I took in the fresh air and cute jingling of fairies. Peter's playing increased its tempo and I soon found my feet wanting to move to the music. I wasn't the most graceful dancer, far from a prima ballerina, but I liked to let loose every now and then. Of course it was mostly modern music, not fairy music. My head rolled languorously and I felt my hair on my shoulders.

I took a step, then another and another. I danced around in a circle, my dress twirling lightly around my legs with each spin. I raised my arms and moved them to the ups and downs of Peter's song. My body had a life of its own then. I spun, jumped, and writhed to the ancient tune. It was like I was possessed! But it felt so free, so good! The fairies tinkled around me, joining hands and singing. Time slowed as I danced and I felt like I was dancing on air. I didn't even notice that Peter had stopped playing I was so wrapped up in my dance. I spun again and met his shining eyes. I didn't startle this time only opened my arms to welcome him. Peter smiled and came to me, taking my hand and waist and joined the dance.

Oh how we danced! Peter led as if he were a professional, and for all I knew he was. His long legs and wide steps were easily met. Our waltz continued to the mystical voices of the faries and the overall music of Neverland. The grass and leaves whistled, the flowers blew, the water popped and bubbled. Petals and fairy dust encompassed us as we slowly rose into the air. Peter dipped me, bringing me back up without leaving my gaze. We twirled and soared above the clearing.

Peter grabbed my waist in his strong hands and lifted me, to which I laughed. I looked to the blue sky and stretched my fingers towards the clouds. The red-haired boy dropped me but caught me to his chest. When I looked back down, our lips were millimeters from each other. I was so elated that I did not blush, this felt so normal. Peter's inhuman face brightened. His flawless skin glowed more than usual, and his lips bowed into a grin. He was truly handsome; an immortal boy with the magic of the Fair folk.

The waltz ended too soon and we came back down to earth. The faires stopped singing and went their merry ways. One they left, I blinked my eyes and shook my head. I felt suddenly dizzy and short of breath. I put a hand to my head and felt cold sweat. What happened to the wonderful feelings earlier? Where I felt invincible and free!

"Easy. The magic is wearing off," Peter said gripping my shoulders.

"M…magic? You mean all that was a spell?" I asked a tad upset.

Peter shrugged, "Can't say for sure. I told you you still had magic in ya. But I don't know if it was the magic of the fairies or yourself that ensnared you."

I felt sick, "I hate you."

Peter chuckled and walked away from me in a silent command for me to follow.

"Trust me, you won't forever."


	6. Chapter 6

It was a long road but I was beginning to see why the Lost Boys desired to remain lost. Neverland represented all of their dreams and fantasies. Life was peaceful, save for the occasional run in with the pirates. Hook had been staying away from Peter, which I guess was not normal. I was thankful that Hook didn't do anything, I really did not want to die.

I also began to not mind caring for the boys. I did their laundry (wishing I had latex gloves), cooked, and told stories. Tootles and Curly were the nicest I thought. Nibs was a little trickster and often stole my pajama pants—little jerk. And Peter would often look at them in such a way that it made my heart thud in my chest. I soon found myself watching the green eyed boy more then I wanted to. I had a feeling that Peter knew it to. Sometimes he would even sit next to me as I told tales. Since the waltz in the field, Peter had been more…what's the word…attentive, I guess? Right? And like any reasonably smart girl, I had a distinct inkling that Peter liked me. Not just liked, but liked. You know, the type of like that has them sitting next to you, finding reasons to go out with you to hang, laughing at everything you say…not that Peter did. Anyway all that aside, he also helped in putting the boys to bed and getting them up in the mornings! Now seriously, what boy would willingly assume the father figure role without so much as a grumble unless they wanted to impress someone?

But apparently, we had been acting more and more like a family that Tootles, in his innocence, asked that ill-fated question.

"Mother, are you and father going to have a baby brother for us to play with?"

My face all but melted off my bones. The other boys were waiting for my answer like kids eyeing gifts on Christmas day. I looked to each one, totally unsure of what to say.

"Uhhhhhhh."

"Sure we are Tootles! Just as soon as you go to bed! Mother and I will get crackin on that right away!"

The look of astonishment and murder must have been legendary because Peter himself backed away from me.

"Eh, heh. O..ok guys, go to bed…now!"

The thudding of tiny feet scampered away from us. Never before have I felt more like crawling under a rock then now. I should've set myself on fire and got it over with. Being alone with Peter bothered me. I knew/hoped he was kidding but still, you would be too if a beautiful imp/fairy/boy said that about you! I watched him walk by me and down the corridor to his room. I bit my lip and my heart went boom…boom…BOOM. When I didn't hear him call me, I settled myself to sleeping by the fireplace. Which suited me fine. I've always wanted to sleep on a bearskin rug next to a fire.

"Are you coming to bed? Or staying out there?"

I cringed and got up. He would sleep on the floor! I prolonged the walk to his chambers by taking baby steps. Actually, my mind ran away with me again. I kept thinking why Peter would joke so openly about that. I was pretty sure the boys weren't taught anything about sex, yet the topic caused my face to flush and my hands to shake. The audacity of Peter! This felt dangerously close to how I got near my ex -boyfriend whenever he talked about it with me. It wasn't sexy, it was creepy. So much so that I broke up with him without doing IT at all. He was a player, and Peter shares his suave qualities. The first moment I really got to talk to Peter, I saw my ex. The way Peter moves, walks, talks, and smells reminds me of my ex. The one significant difference is Peter's striking emeralds. I lost myself in them, just like the first night I met him.

Peter's door was closed. That was strange, he hardly shut his door. A part of me wanted to barge right in, but my respectable side chose to knock.

"C'min."

I opened the door and saw Peter staring at his own sparkling fire. He looked so contemplative, his arms resting on one raised knee. I shut the door and made way for the bed. I slept in my dresses, for I seemed to have lost my PJs after the first day and I didn't feel like wrestling them from Nibs. I snuggled under the blanket and turned to the side. My heart ached that night. For what reason I don't know. Then, he spoke.

"You are confused and weary."

"What? No I'm not. What am I confused and weary about? I didn't promise Tootles a baby brother. That was all you pal."

"Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, sorry about that. Just slipped out I guess. He'll forget it. But that's not what I was talking about. You are warring with yourself. You are fighting against the magic and your yearning for home."

I sat up, "What? You can read minds now?"

Peter shook his head, red hair swishing along his forehead, "No. But I feel Neverland's sadness."

"What sadness? I thought I was going along with it pretty well. I'm not sad. Yeah, I miss my home, and I want to go back, but…"

"You still wish to leave? Odd, usually visitors forget their homes," Peter mumbled.

"Forget? How could I forget?"

Peter sighed. "Those who come to Neverland sometimes forget their native lands."

I blinked at him and pursed my lips.

"So, all those boys…you took from their homes didn't you?"

Peter tensed. "No. I did not take them. They wanted to come with me. That is the one thing about Neverland that annoys me. No one may enter unless they are willing to go."

I thought back to when he first brought me here and a light went off in my head. "That's why you made that bargain with me, so that I would be permitted to come here."

The green-eyed boy nodded. The fire crackled.

"You tricked me then. You tricked all of them!" My voice rose. "You kidnapping son of a bitch! You stole those kids from their homes! Like some fucked up version of the Pied Piper! And now they have forgotten their families!"

I shot out of bed and stomped over to where Peter sat. I felt the flames in my eyes smolder at my realization. Then I let out an insult that would mar the most noble of Fae.

"You are no better than a hobgoblin!"

Peter glared up at me, his eyes glittering most dangerously. "Do not compare me with those lowly creatures."

"Why? Don't like it when you're not in control do you? It's a whole new ballgame when Peter Pan is gettin it! That's how you do it isn't it? You hypnotize and control those boys with those pipes of yours! You did the same thing to me in the field!"

Peter's lips drew into a thin line, like my dad's when he's pissed. Peter stood up, tilting back so as to not bump into me. The emotion in Peter's face held such passion that I could never express myself. I believe no human could. Peter had something about him that was untouchable.

"Yes. You're right. I did mystify you that day. But you must know, I had no hidden intentions behind it. I meant for you to enjoy it"

"And the nights when I say I want to go home…you play your pipes then too? After I'm asleep?"

Again Peter nodded. The rage boiled inside me. I thought I was going to burst.

"You are keeping me here. All of us! Like pets."

"No. It is my reason for being. I bring those who are unhappy to a place where their dreams come true."

"Like the Pied Piper. Only he killed the kids in the end."

"No! I am not evil, I am not a child abductor, nor am I a killer. Stop accusing me as such!"

"You trick kids into leaving their homes and then you brainwash them into thinking they had no other life then with you! That to me is pretty evil!" I spun and went back to the bed, reaching back to untie the lacings holding my dress up.

"I will not stand here and have you rant whilst in my room!"

"I'm not ranting. I'm going to bed. I've said enough. I calls it like I sees it. I'm tired and I would appreciate it if you did not speak to me. Now leave."

I let the heavy dress fall to the floor and got into bed.

"You will not dismiss me. You will not turn your back to me."

I snorted at his indignity. I ignored the angry boy and settled under his light coverlet. I barely pulled the blanket over me when an iron grip grabbed my ankles and shucked me off the bed and onto the floor. I protected my head from banging the ground, curling into a ball. The auburn haired boy glared at me quite furiously, his immortal face hardened. I felt my insides turn cold from that look. I once again saw the creature that he was.

"What are you doing Peter?"

My voice shook and I blushed. Those green eyes flashed with trickery. Peter leaned threateningly close to me, his white teeth shining.

"You want me to let you go home?"

The hidden threats in his tone made me shiver…in a very un-sexy way too. But I nodded and swallowed.

"I will let you go…only if you give me something in return."

"Oh? Really? Another bargain? Fine. Just as long as you don't want a shrubbery." I had to throw in a Monty Python reference…the chance was too good not to.

Peter smirked and leaned further still. "Give me a thimble."

I blinked. "A what?"

"A thimble. Give me a thimble, and I'll let you return home."

"A thimble? Do I look like a seamstress to you? Where the hell am I going to get a thimble?"

The green eyed imp stared hard at me. "You won't do it?"

"No, I'll do it. Just show me where I can get a thimble in this rat's nest and I'll give it to you. Prolly save you the trouble of looking for it too."

"Ok. I'll show you."

Peter pressed his lips to mine and held for palpable seconds. I…was…a…statue. Then it hit me. I knew all along he was going to rape me. Pretty weird way of starting though. I should clock him with a candle holder. Peter shifted closer, his white throat extending to better reach me. I had to admit and I hate to give him praise, but his lips were like air. We parted, which I'm gonna say I was sad to do, and looked at each other. Me gawking, he quite satisfied.

"There."

"…"

"That was a thimble. What? Are you disappointed? Would you rather I give you a kiss?" he held up a worn thimble from his pocket. It looked old, like early 1900's old. I wonder where he got it from…

I eyed the sewing tool, then him. I could not believe it. I really was at the mercy of a psycho.

"This is not Neverland…this is Bizarro World. How can a kiss be a thimble, and a thimble mean a kiss? You gonna tell me that Hello is Goodbye, and Goodbye is Hello?" Tehehehe, Seinfeld reference. ^^

"No. Hello is hello and Goodbye is goodbye here."

"You remember when you said that I wouldn't hate you forever?"

"Hahaha, yea?"

"What you are doing isn't helping."

"Do you want another thimble? I know they make me happy! Or perhaps you would prefer a thing much greater?" he said leaning in again.

I palmed his face and pushed him back, my brows knitted together. "No! Keep away!"

"You are not making this easy. Do not make me force you."

"Force me to do what! Go ahead! I dare you to try something!"

I felt his lips form into his grin under my hand and then he began to chant something in a language I had never heard of. It was low, almost inaudible, and then rose to a thunderous timber.

"Sibh o daonna, bean, bandia o an feoil agus ithir. Eist le mo siog amhran. Sibh lean mo glaoch siar, do an lios. Muinin me. Eagala me ni. Teigh i me i an neal aoibhnis analu tarrthala! An cara duinn do anam! Cluin me! Tagtha go me!" 'You oh human/mortal, woman, goddess of flesh and of the Earth. Listen to my fairy call/song. You will follow my call to the west, to the fairy mound. Trust me. Fear me not. Come to me with the raptures of the kiss of life! In the surrendering/complying/freedom of your soul! Hear me! Come to me!'

It was strange. The language came at me like a flood of warmth. It was ancient. And powerful. I found myself standing up and looking down at him. I felt hazy, kind of the way you get when you eat too much sugar. His voice hummed in my mind, those heavy and Earthy words resonated deeply. Peter rose as well, the fire lighting his face to be horrendously beautiful. I saw him for what he was. Glowing white flesh pulled over sharp bones. Almond shaped eyes that reflected the evil beauty of tempting Emeralds and preternatural knowledge. My gaze went to his pointed ears which I had gotten used to seeing. They were so delicately crafted, so transparent that I saw his veins pulse with blood. Those messy red locks were silky and like water. All of him, everything about him I now realized was more than inhuman. I couldn't help it any longer, I had to ask.

"Cad as tu? Cad as sibh?" 'Where are you from? What are you' Came the ancient tongue. It did not startle me, I was speaking his true language. I was under his spell.

Peter smiled enchantingly at me. "Ta me mo chonai i Tuaiesceart (na h) Eireann, i Avalach. Ta me siog." 'I live in/come from Northern Ireland, in Avalon. I am a fairy/Fae.'

"Avalach," 'Avalon' I said in wonder.

"Cad as ainm duit?" 'What is your name?' I wondered what Peter's real name was…if he had one. Hell it could be something crazy different than Peter, I doubt ancient fairies had names like Peter or Timmy.

"Mo ainm ta Peadar." 'My name is Peter.' He responded smoothly.

He stood there for what seemed like an eternity and I felt like I was staring into the face of my death. My reflection in his green eyes faded into nothing as his irises turned black. In fact, his entire eye became pitch black, like gaping voids. I felt the cold chill of fear but could not move. I was frozen in place. The fire behind us flickered wildly, dancing this way and that. Once it swayed to the side to the point where I swore I saw a face. Peter did not speak, or change his facial expression at all. My body felt limp yet it stood, cold and hot, here but not. Again I felt that same lift in my spirit as I had in the field. Only this time I knew he had placed me under one of his spells. I went to speak in that beautiful language, but my tongue was like pudding in my mouth. My lips sealed shut by magic. I could only watch in silent dread as Peter slowly lifted off the ground, his lean arms wide open- as if to receive me.

"Se ta am!" 'It is time!' Peter's normally melodious voice now held the demonic hollow of a creature beyond the centuries.

And I was utterly powerless to stop him.


	7. Chapter 7

Timeless

...because you'll never forget what he did.

How does one who has never done drugs of any kind, describe the most wicked and fucked up trip ever in the world? Picture millions of colors, and lights, and shapes flickering past your eyes every nano-second of every minute. Plus screeching sounds and feelings of both lightness and heaviness. Imagine your stomach lurching but never quite giving you the satisfaction of throwing-up. You can't tell where the ground ends and the sky begins. Your body feels as if it's being twisted and contorted in every pose known to man yet there you are just standing there. Your eyes roll up then back, up then back. Your ears pop. Your mouth is dry. Your throat clenches.

That, my friends, is what the voyage to the mystical island of Avalach or Avalon is like. And may you never experience it.

When my vision cleared of the nastiness, I was still unable to move but now I was glad I couldn't. From all sides creatures of grotesque shapes and sizes watched me and gorged on the lush smorgasbord before them. Fruits and wines unknown to me were neatly arraigned on the long wooden table. The creatures were all dressed in forest colors too; dark greens, browns, blacks. Their clothes also looked to be stitched together, and quite half-hazardly at that. Some wore dresses, others well…mostly wore leaves and twigs. I think one passed by not wearing anything at all! How could I say for sure though, it was dark and gloomy here. And my being motionless worked like a charm; I went unnoticed. Like avoiding a Tyrannosaurus Rex, I was invisible. But that did nothing to stop my heart from racing in my ears, and my palms from sweating.

The inhuman figures laughed and spoke in that rough ancient language Peter himself had used. But these creatures were nothing compared to Peter in beauty. These were the animals of nightmares and urban legends. Horns, fangs, bulging eyes, and greasy skin seemed to be the staple of these folk. One, a wraith looking girl with sallow skin and huge black eyes unwrapped her long, twiggy arms from around the neck of a stout gnome and saw me. Clearly, she was not a Tyrannosaurus Rex, she was more like a Velociraptor. She came towards me. She touched my hair with her too long fingers and licked her thin lips.

"Mmmmm, Peter, what did you bring us this time? She seems divine!"

Her voice was like foil wrap. It was shrill and crumbling. I wanted to scream and run away. I felt like I had been transported into Ridley Scott's Legend movie. The smells around me, the sounds, the energy were all both fantastic and horrific. It made me wish to run away, and when I realized that I still could not, I began to panic. Which was not a good thing. These creatures, I wouldn't be surprised if they fed on panic and fear.

The female's hands came up into my hair now, their clammy skin damp on my face. I felt like I was finally going to be sick. Suddenly I felt more surges of energy, and I looked over to see Peter- his face pulled tight over his sharp bones.

"Do not touch her, Maestra! This one belongs to me." Peter hissed in the faerie tongue, coming closer to me.

The fairy Maestra snarled, her thin lips curled back to reveal black pointed teeth, "All offerings belong to the Queen, Paedhar! You know that, or must you be reminded again?"

Peter tensed. His green eyes flaring wildly. But not as much as my own. I was an…offering? AN OFFERING? Like a sacrificial lamb or something? Avalon be damned if I was going to be sacrificed for Peter's sake. You know, this whole freaking mess was his fault! The abduction, the trickery, and now this? If I could cry and stomp and pull my hair I would.

I wanted to hit Peter. I wanted to grab him by his ridiculous red hair and ask him questions on pain of death. Then as if a mute button had been pushed, the great room became deafeningly quiet. All of those alien eyes were focused on a large throne made of thistles and thorns. In one graceful movement, Peter stepped in front of me, his height hiding me. I stared at the back of his head and noticed that his red hair seemed more disheveled, for some reason.

"All worship Her Majesty, Queen Mab. Rise Peasants!" The squeaky boom of a short and stout goblin came.

Clumsily, the creatures rose, knocking chairs and dishes as they did so. Peter straightened and I saw the muscles in his back tense. Trinkets clanked as the most lovely woman I had ever seen entered, followed by fairy maidens and knights. I immediately felt ashamed by my own ragged appearance; I had taken off my dress in Peter's room and now I was left in a flimsy 18th century shift. You know how when a woman walks into a room and completely shoots down your confidence? Yeah, imagine that but twenty times worse.

"Ahhh, Paedhar. Such a pleasure to see you here before me again. Why have you come to me this night?" OMG! Her voice was heavenly. I disliked her instantly.

"Greetings my Queen Mab. Fairy Queen of the Unseelie Court and Mistress of Darkness, I bring good tidings. I have ventured far to beseech your majesty, a request."

My brows shot to my hair line. I'd never heard Peter speak so properly and politely before! Such eloquence! Clearly, he respected this fairy more than me…bastard.

"Hmmmmm, and what is this tasty morsel you bring to my court?" Shit! She saw me.

Peter tensed again. "This? She is nothing. Just a mere mortal girl."

The fairy queen studied me as one examines a fine piece of jewelry. "Why, she's lovely Peadhar. Such a gift!"

The red-headed fae in front of me sucked in a breath. "Forgive me, my Queen, but I have a request to make."

"I realize that my dear Pan. You've made your intentions clear before. What is it you wish of me?" The Queen rested her tiny chin in a slender palm.

"This mortal has magic. Such a human is a rare find, and in such an older specimen. My wish is that she remain with me in Neverland. She could prove useful."

My eyes widened and I murmured something against the silence spell. The Queen took notice and flicked a long finger. I opened my mouth wide and gasped.

"I want to go home! This is all a misunderstanding. Peter what the fuck! I demand you take me home now!"

"You do not intend to stay in Neverland?" the Queen asked silkily.

I shook my head wildly, "Hell no! I want to leave!"

A harsh gasp gripped the surrounding fae. Each one whispered eagerly into the ears of another. Their gossip and obvious glee disgusted me. I suddenly felt like an island. Peter's shoulders jolted as one fae approached me, reading itself to throw what seemed to be half eaten fruit at my head.

Peter emitted a low growl from his pale throat, which seemed to quell any aspirations the other fae had. The Queen watched calmly, her lovely eyes like twin gems.

"You seem very attached to this mortal, that is quite unlike you." She said.

Peter turned to her and bowed his head. Behind him, my face flushed. I mean, sure this was a dreadful situation to be in, a pure nightmare. But having a strong otherworldly man protect you in front of his peers is something that any woman would feel warm about.

"It is against our ways to force one into being a part of our world, Peadhar. You know that."

Peter clenched his fists, "Yes-I am well aware."

"I may not be able to, but I can make a wager with you, dear Peadhar. Return to Neverland. If you can persuade this girl into staying with you and your Lost Boys, then I shall fulfill your wish and make her one of us." The Queen offered without considering what I might think.

"What is it with you fae! You can't toss me around like I'm some piece of meat! Don't I get a say in what happens to me?"

The Faerie Queen turned and smiled at me. "The die has been cast, my dear. I shall send the two of you back, where you will play out this little game. I wish you luck Peadhar, remember she is no child. She may prove more of a challenge than even you had expected."

I don't remember what happened next, but when I regained my senses, I was back on Peter's bed with the green eyed imp inches from my face.


	8. Chapter 8

The two of us stared at each other, Peter and I. I felt my throat clench at the thought of what he had just put me through. Being at the mercy of the Faerie Court. Seeing that Queen Mab in all of her unearthly beauty talking to Peter so casually-it pissed me off. Peter didn't blink, going unnaturally long without. I had to remind myself that he was not my friend or confidante, he had stolen me from my home and entrapped me here in Neverland. He used his flute to hypnotize me. He used his faerie charm to subdue me. This thing was not of the children's story at all. It was a deceiver.

I saw myself in Peter's eyes. I saw my frown and my creased brows. He must've realized how angry I was because he sat back on his rear and rested his arms on his bent knees.

"I guess I have a lot of explaining to do."

"It's a start." I said.

So Peter told me of how, long ago, he had made previous deals with the Unseelie Queen on whether or not he could successfully convince an adult (like me) to remain in Neverland without the use of magic. Many fell prey to him nonetheless. However, because they gradually lost their 'magic' or since they had very little to start with, terrible things happened to them. He told me of how their bodies withered away and broke apart. Their limbs snapped like dry twigs in winter. He remembered their cries for release and of how he spared them dreadful deaths. Since then, Peter had given up on trying to bring anyone over the age of 12 to Neverland. Queen Mab still held over his head the fact that she was right in the end. She knew how Peter wanted company how much he was willing to go for it. When I asked him what it meant when I was to be an offering to the queen, he said that usually humans brought to the Faerie courts are given as offerings to the ruler. They became slaves, servants, laborers, etc. Sometimes food if the mood struck.

The red hair of his head shone like fire. The flames from the fireplace were dying from lack of attention, but they gave off enough light to amplify the orange locks. Peter's eyes were downcast. The sharp black pupils adjusted to the flickers of flames with animalistic rapidity.

But that still didn't change the fact that I was kept here.

"You're an ass…you know that?" I snapped at him.

With a small grin, Peter looked up at me. The angle of his jaw tilted towards me in an almost condicending manner. It irritated me because he looked very cute like that. He was one of those guys who could pull of the "smart ass" look and get away with it.

"Maestra calls me that all the time. I've learned to take it as a compliment."

The thought of the faerie's disgusting fingers made me frown and I grunted.

"Yeah, who was that weird chick?."

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "Maestra is one of the lesser Fae. She tries to work her way up the social ladder by brown-nosing nobles and the queen. Mab's too smart though and sees right through her. Maestra has been after me for centuries." Peter visibly shivered.

I was confused. "Wait…she seemed ready to break your neck back there when you told her not to touch me." I blushed slightly. Not too much though to give him any satisfaction.

"Maestra hates authority figures. As her elder, I am her authority. Yet no matter how I try, she manages to find me." He pursed his mouth and shrugged again.

"Her voice was so shrill. How could you possibly be interested?" I said.

"She's a Banshee. She has a very high voice. Banshee are Fae who sing when death is near or to alert when death approaches." Peter explained.

"But, the Banshee are from Scotland. What was she doing…"

"The Fae are everywhere. The boundaries you humans give mean nothing."

I stared at him and I couldn't help but feel a bit inadequate. The way he said human to me brought to my attention again that he was not the same as I.

I felt a bit of resentment towards him for talking to me as if I were lowly. But I stopped and reminded myself that he did protect me in his way from Maestra and the Queen. He was a self-perpetuating snob but I guess he did deserve a thanks for that.

"Hey..Peter," I started when he glanced over. "Back there, you know…while I couldn't talk—thanks."

The red-headed imp cocked his neck. "For what?"

I rolled my eyes. Was he really going to make me say it again. I knew this was not a grand idea.

"For having my back against Maestra and the Queen."

Peter nodded. "No problem."

We stared at each other for what seemed like long hours in silence. I bit my lips trying to think of something to say when a harsh rapping came from the door. It was Tibbs.

"Father! Mother! Come quickly! There's someone outside and he's hurt several of the boys!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Peter and I rose and hurried to the door. Tibbs backed away, stumbling a bit as we flashed passed him. We ran to the entrance of the hideout to find that the Lost Boys had been subdued by a tall man in rich clothes. His hair, which was long and fine, floated about him as if under water. He turned his face as we came closer. Peter bared his teeth, his eye-teeth forming into sharp points. I never noticed that he had the capability to produce fangs. I assumed it to be another faerie thing. I can tell you though, I was becoming more and more jaded by the ways of the fae. I am not and never will be, however, jaded to their beauty. Standing in front of me yet again, Peter tensed and braced for an attack.

"What are you doing here!?" He snarled.

I was unsure what to do. The stubborn side of me saw what this stranger did to the boys and wanted revenge. So, much to Peter's distress, I stepped out from behind him and spoke up.

"How dare you come here and do this! You will explain yourself or so help me I will do to you what you have done to them." My voice was calm but firm.

The man's grey eyes slid over me and twinkled as he smiled most beguilingly.

"I really did not mean to harm them. They were just in the way. There is no need for violence I assure you. They are not injured, merely sleeping. And as for you Pan," he turned to Peter. "I just had to see what Mab was fussing over after the two of you left her court. Do you know she reported to me your newest toy? She was very adamant about her and so I simply had to take gander myself. And I'm pleased that I did. What a fine specimen you brought, young Pan."

The man's voice was like water, flowing and relaxing. He came over to me and bowed at the waist. I watched as his liquid hair fell over his shoulders and the ends float in their invisible submersion. I was unable to take my eyes off of the mystical shade of creamy silver that donned his fair crown. It was as beautiful a color as Peter's red.

"It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Finvarra, High King of the Faerie court of Daoine Sidhe."

The silken fabric of his tunic rustled as it creased into the bend of his hip. The hue was a light blue with whitish designs similar to elegant filigree. The collar and sleeves were bordered with broad strips of gold and silver threading.

I blushed at his formality and tried my best, albeit clumsily, to curtsey. I won't go into detail of how that looked…it's too embarrassing. Hey I'm a modern girl thrown into a world where men act like knights of lore, don't blame me for my lack of medieval etiquette. The closest I got to the Middle Ages was going to Medieval Times with a group of friends one Friday night. But despite that, my mind raced as I tried to sift through the many filing cabinets in my brain as to where his name sounded so familiar. Then it struck.

"Um…I think I've heard of you before," I said quickly pushing aside fond memories and recalling my previous years of Faerie study while the little me inside my head grabbed the correct file and jumped happily up and down. "You're the king who steals human women and sleeps them right?" I immediately regretted saying that.

If I could've bashed my head against a rock then I would have. Finvarra's handsome face lit up in a bemused smile. I was so humiliated! I sounded like an eager tourist who went to Ireland with the hopes of actually finding faeries at night! And he was a king no less! Uggggg! I needed serious help.

Finvarra brought a pale hand to cover his mouth, obviously hiding his laugh. The beautifully embroidered cuff of his sleeve slid back from his wrist revealing an expanse of milky white skin. I observed that, like Peter, Finvarra's arm bore no hair. I suppose it had to do with the faerie image of being perfect and fair.

"Forgive my confusion, but I had to think of the stories you were referring to. Yes, it is true that many believe me to be some lecherous fiend who takes mortal maidens to his court to deflower them. But I assure you, I only did it once."

I blinked. I stuck my tongue into my cheek thinking of how to respond.

"Once huh?"

The faerie nodded.

"Who was the lucky girl?" I Might as well find out for kicks.

Finvarra looked towards the sky, his stormy eyes far away.

"A young woman named Freya."

The faerie king seemed happy as he spoke her name. At his feet, I saw that the boys were recovering from their earlier traumas. They rubbed their heads and sat up looking groggy. Peter hastened over to them and told them to go back inside and wait. As their little bodies trailed back into the hideout, the red-haired fae cleared his throat.

"What do you want Finvarra?"

The king answered, "Whatever do you mean young Pan?"

I saw Peter's emeralds thin as his eyes narrowed. "You came here to see her. You have. Now leave."

Finvarra chuckled. His regal bearing was not altered by Peter's rudeness, a fact that irritated Peter greatly. For being a fellow faerie, I wondered why he hated his 'kin' so to speak. Finvarra seemed nice, buut then again…what did I know.

"Come now Paedhar, you know the customs concerning our kind. When one of superior standing arrives at another's house they in turn must welcome their guest with lodging, food and drink. And by the looks of your establishment and by the plumpness of your Lost Boys, I'd say that there is plenty to go around."

Ahhhhh, I was beginning to see why Peter wanted Finvarra to leave—he was a moocher.

Peter gritted his teeth and tensed his neck. "Yes Finvarra, I am well aware."

Then, much to my surprise, Peter stepped back, bowed slightly and begrudgingly waved an arm to the front entrance.

"Please come inside and don't stay."

The faerie king grinned and swept passed Peter. I was about to say something when Finvarra set his arm across my waist.

"Now, my lady, you simply must regale me with tales of your homeland. I have traveled far and would much like to hear a good story whilst I dine," he glanced back at Peter who was now risen and scowling quite darkly at the nobleman. "Indeed! I will dine and drink to my merriment at Pan's expense of course."

Finvarra's bell-like voice rose in laughter as we both went inside and I was unable to see the festering irritation spreading across Peter's face.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Part 1

By the time Finvarra left the hideout I was livid. The faerie king had upped the ante on Peter successfully making me stay in Neverland without the use of faerie magic. Peter, not wanting to be bested by the man, took the king's wager and, being completely ignorant of me sitting right next to them, shook Finvarra's hand. Well, I blasted Peter for it. I told him that if he was not going to help me get back home, then I would find my own way. I also told him that I was something to be bet upon like a racehorse. I stormed out into the evening and ignored Peter's calls and threats to lock me out if I didn't return that instant.

I admirably flicked him the bird and proceeded to venture into the wilds of Neverland. I walked and walked. I walked to burn off my steam. I walked to get away. The further I went into the forests, the taller and older the trees became. Some were as tall as the Giant Redwoods. They were beautiful and majestic. I soon came upon a more dark area of Neverland. A place I had never seen nor heard of. It smelled of sulfur and was eerily quiet. No birds sung in the trees, no insects twittered in the grass. It was like a mute button had been pushed. Mist swirled and clung to large rocks peeking through cloudy pools of murky water. My hair stood on end as I realized I was in the middle of a swamp.

You ever walk into a bad part of a city and there can be no one there, but you just know it's not a good place to be? That's what this place felt like. Only instead of druggies, rapists, murderers and thugs, you got demons, angry spirits, and monsters. My thoughts of Maestra and her needle like smile filled my mind. I tried singing songs like September, from Earth Wind and Fire. It didn't help. It was so creepy that I almost heard the haunting cello music frequently played in horror movies. Together with the choppy violin. I was sufficiently freaking myself out so much that I didn't see the ripples forming in the pools behind me. While trying to maintain my composure, I felt the nagging tug of eyes watching me. I jumped around, my blood icy cold.

"There's nothing there," I said. I was so scared that I laughed as one does in this situation.

Still chuckling I resumed finding my way out of the marsh thinking I was alone. But one thing to note is that in Neverland you're never alone.

The swamp was much larger than I anticipated and my feet grew tired and sore. My legs ached from dragging them through the thick mud and mire. The putrid odor of gases and rotting reeds made me sick. I sat down on the sturdiest patch of ground I found and lamented.

"My life sucks."

I stretched my legs out smiling as my knees cracked.

"I wonder if Peter is still mad with me." I said staring at my hands.

Beyond me, partially visible amongst the dead reeds and shrouds of mist, I was being watched by a pair of glittering red eyes.

Part 2

"This is ridiculous! Where the hell did that stupid mortal get to?!" Peter shouted in his preternatural voice.

Tibbs recoiled from the high tone of his "Father's" timbre and offered up, "The boys and I lost her trail just west of here. You know…where the trees list and the sky grows dark even with the sun out."

Tibbs inwardly smiled when he saw the flash of recognition in Peter's green eyes. The leader of the Lost Boys shot his gaze down at the boy as if accusing him of a crime.

"You are certain of this?"

Tibbs nodded with a child's ferocity. "Yes. We're fine until Poof! Her tracks vanish."

Peter turned quickly, his mind spinning. Eyes of emerald darted from left to right. And thought it was bad with Finvarra. If HE got a hold of her, she would rightly die. Peter had lost too many mortals to that beast. Peter brought his pale hands to grip his red hair and pulled at the strands. A gesture that a child might give when faced with a problem.

"I have to do something!"

Peter released his hair and swiftly went over to his belongings. Tibbs watched as his "Father" frantically looked for something. Suddenly, Peter went ridged and poked his head up to stared at the child. "Wait, she left us. Why should I fetch her useless presence."

Then arrogantly and full of pride, Peter abandoned his search and patted his hands together to rid them of dust. Tibbs became quite upset by this and stomped his feet, earning the attention of the red headed fae.

"What do you mean?! She is our "Mother" you have to find her!" Tibbs' bottom lip trembled. "You know what happened to the others! I don't want that to happen to her! She's nice to us. She reads us stories and tells them to us. She cooks our food and tucks us in at night. She even checks under our cots for monsters. You have to go and bring her back."

Peter stood quiet as Tibbs argued. The red head grunted and bore a look of irritation.

"Fine. If I didn't have so much waging on her sorry hide I'd leave her. Damn you Finvarra."

With that and a few silent curses, Peter rose into the air and exited the hideout heading west.


	11. Chap11: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Peter Pan Chapter 11: Something Wicked This Way Comes

There came a point as I sat there in the swamp that I realized I had stayed there long enough, wallowing in my own grief. So, clapping my hands onto my thighs, I got up. Brushing off any dirt and grass that clung to me, I noticed a light sheen on my arms.

"Ugggg, I'm all sweaty. How nasty," I said.

The swamp was muggy and when I sat down, I guess the heavy mist caused me to perspire. While walking I was too distracted to notice the wet spots on my shift. Before I walked on, something caught my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be a horse. A black horse it was, with flowing mane and tail. Its face had the perfect structure to that of a Fresian; the muzzle slightly Roman, the thick neck finely arched like a carousel horse. The broad muscles of its chest and rump were truly impressive. Long legs feathered into sturdy hooves which rested evenly atop the slimy mud bank. Normally, because I was getting better at detecting this thing, a horse as robust as this would've sunk into the soft ground at least to its fetlocks. But this horse stood as if on dry land.

I felt my heart race. I knew what type of fae I had encountered; a kelpie. To explain, a kelpie is a Scottish water faerie associated with the malevolent Unseelie Court, despite it often being considered solitary. When I first found out about the kelpie, I had read that the solitary fae were thought to be more dangerous.

Anyway, according to legend, the kelpie would appear before unsuspecting travelers or civilians (like children) and lure them to touch it. Once human skin made contact, the mortal was then "glued" to the evil fae. The kelpie then dragged the poor human to the depths of the marsh and devoured it leaving only the liver and sometimes the heart. It was one fae you wanted to avoid. It was a flesh eating monster disguised as a beautiful steed. It happened to be my favorite type of faerie.

Its haunting milky eyes fixed their blind stare on me and slowly came over. I watched in morbid fascination and slight fear as it vanished beneath the dark waters only to re-emerge mere feet away from me. Effortlessly, the great equine hoisted itself from the swamp. Long tendrils of marsh plants hung from the thick mane and tail. Now that it was near, I saw that it was male and that he stood close to, if not exactly, 19hh. That, in case you are unfamiliar with horse measurements, is huge. Larger even than a Clydesdale or Shire. Its head was as long as my torso. The pink nostrils flared as it released the raspberry snort heard from horses. It smelled of horse, that musky-lemony scent that makes horse riders smile. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to throw a bridle on him and race away back home. Or screw the bridle, ride him bare-back with no reigns. Just take the rippling mane in my hands and ride him wherever I wanted.

I knew I should've been more afraid, but in a weird way, I wasn't. The kelpie took a stride, then another and another until it was close enough to breathe on me. His black coat was as shiny as a sea's hide. I wanted to feel its silkiness. The kelpie spoke not a word but urged me to touch it.

Now it was at this point that I did the very stupid, stereotypical air-headed move…I reached out to stroke his neck. But! Before I could, a pair of rough hands grabbed me from behind and wrenched me backwards.

"I knew it had to be you!" Peter then spit at the kelpie's feet.

The water horse saw the insulting gesture done by Peter and snarled. Baring its wolf-like teeth the kelpie flattened its ears.

"Dare tú ag teacht idir mé féin agus mo cairéil? Beidh mé ag cuimilt tú amach Paedhar!" (You dare come between me and my quarry? I shall tear you apart Peter!)

Peter flashed his own tiny incisors and shoved me to the side. I stumbled in the mud. The emerald green of Peter's eyes had darkened along with the shadows of his face.

"Beidh mé ag ithe di! Tá sí difriúil, láidir. Tá sé go leor aoiseanna ó bholaíos ciúine mé anuas an chumhacht sin i daonna. " (I will eat her! She is different, strong. It has been many ages since I last smelled such power in a human.) The kelpie's voice held a demonic echo.

What a wicked tenure! I backed away. I nearly fell when my feet collided with a mass of dead tree vines. They were long and about three inches in diameter. I kicked the heavy pile in a fluster. The kelpie heard my kick and growled in my direction.

"Do not strike my marsh! Or I shall ensure you die most painfully!" The white orbs stared from within its coal black face.

"Ah, Peter, aren't you going to do something?" I screamed.

"Like~?" Came his irritating reply.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" I said

"I doubt you can do physical magic."

I glared at him. "No you idiot! The kelpie wants to eat me. Are you gonna just stand there and let him?"

"Hey, I only promised to find you, not protect you." Peter chided.

My angry retort had to wait as the kelpie took the opportunity to charge. The red-headed imp quickly defended himself. The kelpie bit and kicked, Peter narrowly escaping the blows.

Peter floated in the air, skirting the cantankerous water horse. He showed no real interest or intention to fight back. In fact, he looked bored. This clearly pissed off the kelpie for he reared to his full height and lunged his powerful neck to bite. Peter must not have considered the kelpie to stretch that far because the elongated teeth snatched Peter's shirt.

"Diabhal go beithíoch!" (Lit trans: damn cattle. Peter is deliberately insulting the water horse by calling it a beast."

Peter wrestled in the air. The kelpie chuckled in its demonic hollow and swung its great jaws side to side. Peter tried to tear off his shirt but the force and speed with which he was being flung caused his hands to slip.

"Mallacht tú féin agus do chineál wrteched chun ifreann!" (Curse you and your wretched kind to hell!) Peter yelled.

The kelpie snorted and backed up into the swamp.

"Droch-Peadhar, beidh mé leat a tharraingt ar an doimhneacht de ifreann liom," (Poor Peter, I'll drag you to the depths of hell with me.)

I had to do something! Peter was an ass at times but he did not deserve to be eaten alive. So, reaching to grab a dead vine I quickly tied it into a make-shift lasso. (I was bored one night so I looked it up on ). I figured, if I distracted the water horse, Peter could get away. Then we could get the hell outta here. I held onto the long vine lasso and ran towards them. The kelpie's back legs were up to their hocks in water. I began to yell and taunt the horse. Much to my surprise he ignored me. Desperate, I spun the lasso above my head. Peter saw what I was doing and barked:

"Are you insane!? Don't do it!"

Spinning the lasso faster, I had the loop going in large whooshing circles. I was getting into the whole lasso thing. My body was rocken, my talk was trashy. The kelpie finally noticed me and flared his nostrils. With the kelpie now fixed on me, Peter gave his shirt a yank. The fabric tore away from the clenched teeth, sending Peter in the air and flinging the water horse's head back. Head reeling from the kickback, the kelpie pivoted in the swamp to run me down. Peter tried to stop me but it was too late. I threw the lasso. Peter went ballistic.

"No! What have you done!? You stupid girl!"

I grinned as the lasso landed squarely around the kelpie's neck. As if pulled from behind like a calf in a rodeo, the water horse dug its back hooves into the muddy earth and unleashed a sound I had never heard before in my life. Now, the sounds of the fae are not of our world so the best I can describe it as would be a mixture of a bear, hawk, and a frightened horse.

Like mad the kelpie reared and bucked, its weight sending little shockwaves in the mud. My grin disappeared and I became confused. I looked to Peter who was frowning darkly at me. The pinprick emeralds trembled.

"Diabhal thú! Tá tú créatúr íseal! Níl a fhios agat mo fearg! Beidh mé do cheann le haghaidh é seo!" (Damn you! You lowly creature! You do not know my wrath/anger! I will have your head for this!) The kelpie shrieked.

I could not understand his language but I knew what he said.

"Peter I know you're royally pissed off at me right now, but what's his problem?"

The imp said in a low, agitated voice:

"With your knowledge of our race you are oblivious to this? You are unaware of the Curse of the Kelpie?"

"Curse? What curse?" I asked now nervous.

"When a kelpie has been ensnared by a harness of any make, it is to then serve the owner of that bind for eternity. Unless the owner removes the harness, the kelpie will never be free. That is their curse upon themselves. The Mallacht de na Kelpie."

My eyes darted from Peter to the inconsolable kelpie. The water horse snapped and pawed at the vine. Its milky eyes bulging.

"Now I'm stuck with you, and now a kelpie." Peter grumbled crossing his legs and sitting on an invisible cushion.

The kelpie then halted. The sudden stop startled me and I looked at him.

Panting, his great sides heaving, the water horse said in that horrid timber, "Ba mhaith liom a fhiach tú síos don chuid eile de do shaol an duine olc, ba chóir duit a scaoileadh riamh dom." (I would hunt you down for the remainder of your miserable life human, should you ever release me.)

I knew by the way he eyed me that he said something about me dying. So, I narrowed my eyes and straightened my aching back. I grasped the vine in my hand firmly and took steps closer to him.

Peter watched fuming. I stood before the kelpie. His muzzle was damp and his forelock was separated into tangled strands. Taking the risk that he might bite me, I touched him on the nose. The little hairs were like velvet under my fingers, and the skin was buttery soft. To my surprise again, my hand did not stick.

"Another part of the curse. The master is immune to the kelpie's adhesive effects." Peter blurted above.

"Nach bhfuil sí mo mháistir! Tá mé aon níos fearr!" (She is not my master! I have no superior!) The kelpie growled at the flying imp.

"Well, you do now." Peter said matter of fact.

"What did he say?" I asked concerned.

"He's pissed because you're his master now."

I blanched. Master? I'm something's master? That made me feel all kinds of weird. I didn't want to be this creature's master. That just sounded so wrong to me. But I couldn't let him go, he'd kill me. I was stuck. I tried to be as cordial as I could.

"So…new topic, what can I call you? I can't call you kelpie forever."

"I will never reveal my name to you. You are unable to properly pronounce it no doubt. I will not have my name shamed by your mouth." The kelpie grunted.

I swallowed. "Fair enough. Can I give you a name then?"

The kelpie flicked his ears. The tension was still palpable but now he seemed curious.

"You name me? Preposterous mortal. So presumptuous too!"

"Don't I know it," Peter chimed in a very "bro-code" fashion.

I ignored Peter. I wanted to smooth over this mess with the kelpie. I thought for a moment and then I offered:

"What about Rossel?"

The kelpie's white eyes frowned. "Rossel?"

"It's the old Scottish form of Russell. I don't know. I heard it before and I thought it sounded cool. And you look like a Rossel."

For a while, the kelpie was quiet.

"Why should I accept a name chosen by a mere human?" He asked, his chilly voice low.

I resisted the goose bumps rising on my arms and responded truthfully.

"Well, I'm not sure. You don't have to. I'm not forcing you."

The water horse let out a chuckle which did not seem right coming from him.

"Little human, no one forces me to do anything. You may wield this rope about me, but I am not going to concede so easily."

Well, I thought, he didn't say 'no I don't like it.' So, from then on in my mind, I called him Rossel.

"I hope you don't concede. I find your species of fae interesting. To think you might readily listen to me would be very boring indeed." I said.

Peter raised a brow. "I can't believe it. You sounded like an adult. And an adult of the world of Fae."

"Shut up."

I'll never become part of this world Neverland, Avalach or whatever. I was determined to find my way home. I just kept getting sidetracked, as if the land wanted me to stay.

Peter came down and landed gracefully beside me. At once the kelpie's throat rumbled. Peter stuck out his tongue.

"Easy patsy. Protective of your master much?"

This sent Rossel into a tizzy. "Leanbh insolent! Ní féidir liom a bheith in ann a bhaint amach ar an cailín ach go bhfuil tú cluiche cothrom. Ná déan dearmad go raibh mé beagnach tú aon uair amháin." (Insolent child! I may not be able to strike the girl but you are fair game. Do not forget that I almost had you once.)

Peter glared at the horse. I stomped my foot on the mud. "Stop it! Peter enough. And you, I don't know what you're saying but I know it's just as nasty so stop."

Rossel tossed his great head and turned away. Peter spat again on the ground.

"Bastard. Tether him to a tree. I'm not having the Lost Boys fix him anything."

"I'm not leaving him outside."

"He lives in a damn swamp. That is outside."

"You won't be the bigger man and help me with him?" I sighed frustrated.

"Absolutely not. You made this mistake. Why should I pay for it?"

I grit my teeth. "If you'll be a belligerent prick about this then I'll just ask Finvarra. I'm sure he'd help me."

Peter's face sharpened. His pupils shrunk to black dots in seas of green.

"Ask that cur and I'll have you live in the wilderness as well."

By now, Peter's swiftly changing, inhuman expressions were becoming normal for me. I no longer really feared those icy looks. I was beginning to form my own.

"I already live in the wilderness in the hut you call a hideout. Keep treating me like this Peter and I'll see to it that Queen Mab wins your bet."

The kelpie laughed. "Queen Mab? You made a deal with that old bitch? You've fallen low imp."

I saw Peter silently boiling. His hands were tight balls.

"Did Hook finally tire of you? You have to seek thrills elsewhere?" Rossel continued.

With that, Peter took to the sky and hovered hundreds of feet above us.

"I'm leaving. You found your way into this quagmire, now find yourself out. I'll inform Tibbs you're safe."

I watched as Peter flew away. The fact that he left me made me so angry I couldn't see straight.

"Great just great! How the hell am I going to get back?" I gesticulated.

Rossel was quiet and he turned in the direction Peter went.

"Come you dolt. This way is his yes?"

I followed, holding onto the vine as a lead-rope. "I guess. Why are you going though?"

"I hate Paedhar. I know not a fae who doesn't. But I will be damned if he thinks I'll back away like some spineless pixie. You evidently are unsure of how to return, so I shall lead us."

I quietly followed Rossel out of his swamp and my heart sank a bit when he gazed back at its foggy shroud.

"I'm sorry you're leaving your home," I said responsible for his departure.

The water horse breathed heavily and continued to stride through the thick expanse of marshland. I felt the tension vibrate off of him as I plodded along beside his large flank. The air between us was so awkward that I spent most of the journey staring at the ground, watching it change from muck to solid trails. The air lightened and the trees were less menacing. I glanced over at Rossel and marveled at how out of place he looked with his pitch black coloring and ghoulish eyes. As we walked, grass and flowers and undergrowth seemed to wilt away from him, trying to avoid the brush of his legs.

How did he feel leaving a home where he was accepted and be going to a new, strange one where he was the outsider. Did the tall cattails shy from his presence? What about the frogs and water snakes? No, they bent and went towards him. But the large oaks and full shrubs shunned the water horse like a plague. Smaller fae stopped their songs and poetry, animals scurried back into their holes, leaves stopped their rustling. The heavy blanket of unwelcome covered us, nearly bending my back. Rossel remained unfazed. I wondered if he did so to save face, this powerful and dreadful kelpie being tied to a mortal girl. Or if he truly did not care what the other flora, fauna, and fae thought. In a way, I knew what he must be going through.

A curious air faerie came close, so close that if she were to reach out her tiny foot she would've stood atop his back. I knew what she wanted, and Rossel knew as well. She wanted to touch this thing. She probably thought, he can't be that bad if he's with a human. I saw her back bend, the inquisitive stare. The little hand went for his black coat. With ears still forward, Rossel lifted his long tail and swooshed it around, sending the air faerie flying in the other direction. I heard her bell-like scream as it faded away. In a way I was angry that he did it, but I was also amused. I could not count how many times I wished I could've pushed annoying people away from me, but did not for conformities sake.

"Why did you do that!?" I whispered trying to hide my cracking grin.

"I will not be touched by those I find disgusting."

Fair enough, I thought.

By the time we reached the hideout, I was spent. My feet killed and I desperately needed water. The shift I wore clung to me from all of the sweat and grime. Stains tattooed my legs and skirt in a mosaic of green and army brown. Rossel, despite having the coat of a wet seal, was spotless. Any muck or dried mud had fallen away during our walk. He stopped upon seeing the hideout. I came up beside him and found the place quiet. No one was around. Peter was nowhere to be found and neither were the Lost Boys. I sighed thinking that Peter told the Boys everything and, siding with their "Father" had left me to deal with the kelpie alone.

Taking Rossel by the vine, I gave a tiny tug. Rossel's ears went back but he followed regardless. I led him around the hideout trying to figure out where I should put him. Ugg, I hate saying that. You put a regular horse in a barn, where do you put a supernatural horse that can speak and display human emotion?

Rossel knew I was dawdling and let out unnerving grumbling sounds. I made a distressted face, thankful that my back was to him. I came around to the back of Peter's hideout and almost cried from what I saw. There before me was a fenced off section of land together with a small stable. There was a gate with a latch and I gently motioned for Rossel to follow. I brought Rossel into the paddock. I went into the stable to find a smart leather halter resting on a post. I took the hater and went over to the water horse. Rossel saw the object n my hand and bared his teeth.

"Let me put this on you. It's better than that vine around your neck." I said careful not to aggravate him.

"This vine is of my marsh."

His voice was threatening but scared. He was afraid to lose the one thing he had of his home. I thought on it. Then I said:

"What if I tied the vine around the halter?"

"No."

"I think the leather would look better on you."

He hissed at me, "Stupid girl. You don't understand. This vine is now a part of me."

He turned his great neck and I saw that the lasso had fixed itself to his skin. I gasped.

"What is this?"

A voice came from behind me. "When a kelpie is caught, the owner may remove the restraint…but there is a catch."

I spun and saw Peter. He had changed his shirt from the grungy thing I first saw him wear in my house, to a more finely tailored shirt. It was stitched with thick thread and the pine green color accentuated him perfectly. I didn't bother asking him where he had come from or if the Boys were with him. So I kept the conversation to the point.

"What do you mean? Explain."

Peter came over but kept his distance as Rossel snarled.

"The lasso you set on him has melded to his flesh. Another perk to the curse. The master, in order to remove the bind, has to literally cut the bind from the flesh. You won't be able to free him without mutilation."

A satisfied smirk flashed at Rossel who extended his neck to snap. Peter jumped back and clucked his tongue.

"Close."

I stared blankly at the floor. "So…what do I do? Why give me the halter if it requires something so brutal?"

Peter shrugged. "I was hoping for entertainment…but I see that by telling you I've jerked myself outta that treat."

I gave Peter one of the coldest stares. " Sometimes you can be such a despicable thing."

I knew Peter glowered at me but I didn't care. I turned my attention back to Rossel. Taking the vine I wrapped the left over length around his neck. To my surprise, the vine completely merged to his body. It acted like a slightly raised marking; it looked like a collar.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"No."

Rossel tossed his head, his mane covering the vine. Almost tiredly, he waked into the stable.

"I do not need your concern."

After Peter and I left Rossel to his devices, I whirled on Peter. I struck him in the face, a spontaneous act that earned a look of disbelief.

"Don't you ever speak in the unimaginable way you did back there again." With that, I walked on alone.

I felt justified in hitting him. He left me in the swamp, he took me from home, he made a bet about me. I knew the Lost Boys were the ones who built the Barn and fence. Peter would die before he lifted a finger to help with anything. Especially if it were to help somebody else. I entered the hideout dodging the curious voices of Tibbs, Tootles, and the other Boys. I was in no state to chat or tell stories. Locking myself in Peter's room I changed into a clean shift and buried my head under the pillows.


	12. Chapter 12

Peter Pan Chapter 12: Double, double toil and trouble.

I awoke the next day to the soothing pleasure that was summer rain. The spattering droplets drew me from my slumber like delicate whispers. I adored summer rain. Back home, the smells of the trees, grass and asphalt had always calmed my nerves. It didn't matter what I had been through, I could be a bundle of tension ready to snap but when I smelled the wet, tarry smell of the street I chilled instantly. It was quite a quirk I had in fact.

I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes to listen. I had this thing where if I focused long and hard enough, I could feel the rain landing on my bare skin. The cold drops dotting my body, hitting my eyelids. I smiled. What a great way to wake up. Inevitably, my thoughts were flooded with Rossel. The kelpie I had captured the day before. A part of me hoped that he was enjoying this rain as well. This counted as day two with him and I wondered what excitements today might bring. I needed to check on him, the sole driving force that drug me from bed. Otherwise it would've taken a team of kelpies to get me out of bed.

So, rising, I dressed. I had to admit that deep down I was getting tired of wearing the heavy dresses Peter provided for me from Hook's mother's…wherever he got them. I would kill for a pair of jeans, I thought. Seeing that there were none to speak of, I pulled a rather simple dress of pale pink cotton over my head. Pursing my lips at the length, I searched for a pair of scissors. Finding an old set, I removed the dress, cut the fabric at about knee height and re-dressed. Pleased with the new hemline I put the scissors back and went to tie my hair back. I did nothing fancy; my hair always frizzed in the rain and I had no hair product with me. With it in a snug bun, I went outside.

I saw the Lost Boys gathered around Rossel's pen. Unbothered by the soft rain, they had set up shop with their breakfast and waited eagerly for the water horse to poke his head out. I rolled my eyes at their childishness and approached.

"What are you doing?" I asked fully aware.

"We want to see it," Tibbs answered.

"Him. It's a him." I corrected.

"But he won't come out," replied Tootles.

"Maybe he doesn't want us to see him," came another.

Remembering that they had built the stable they were crowding, I said:

"I appreciate the time and effort you all put into building this for him, but I need you to give him some space. At least until he gets better acquainted here."

"What are you talking about 'Mother'? We didn't do this."

"You didn't?" I asked very stupefied. "Are you saying Peter built this?"

There was a long pause. I could not believe it. Peter actually manned up and helped. I wondered why thought. He was so adamant about leaving e to handle everything.

"So…why would he?" I asked more to myself.

"Father felt really bad about leaving you so he spent hours on making a place for your kelpie." They said.

"I was surprised too Mother. Father never liked this kelpie, that's why he went looking for you yesterday."

I tried not to show too much amazement but my face felt warmer and my heart sped slightly in my chest. If the Boys were talking about it, then Peter must have been…worried? Dare I say it?

I found something comforting in that. Sure he kept me safe during the meeting with Queen Mab, but this was independent. I felt the sudden urge to see him. If this was true, then I wanted to set things right with the red-haired imp. He was my way home after all. It would do no good to have him pissed at me.

"Do you guys know where he is?"

They all pointed their small fingers in opposite directions. Sighing I passed them and went closer to the stable. I first had to see if Rossel was ok. I peered inside. Rossel was resting on the ground beneath a moderately sized hole in the roof. Obviously put there to allow rain in. it teemed through the opening and fell onto his great back.

I suppose rain pacifies him being a water horse and all, I thought. His milky eyes were closed as he slept. I smiled because I half-expected him to sleep with them open. When I turned to leave, Rossel's hollow voice made me bristle.

"Are they still lingering outside?"

I jolted and resisted shivers. I still was not used to the eerie, breathy tone.

"Y…yeah."

I heard him let out a heavy breath. "Little ingrates."

I grinned.

"You want me to send them away?" I offered.

"I can do that with no effort from you." He snorted.

I nodded my head in understanding. "I don't doubt you could."

"You must have doubts about my abilities. Why else would you make such an offer?" He replied twisting my intentions around.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. "I meant nothing by it. Just a simple gesture that's all."

When he did not respond the air became unbearably awkward. Rossel remained quiet and I found it difficult to stay in his presence. He didn't say, but I knew I had overstayed my welcome. So, with quick parting words I left. I was on a mission to find Peter.

In my head, apologies and accusations warred. The rain came harder now. I traversed the woods, thinking of how they resembled rainforests. I called out to Peter several times only to have no answer back.

The fact that I was searching for him probably gave the imp some satisfaction and opted to let me scream or him. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was giving me the silent treatment.

"Peter! I have something to say to you!" I tried again.

Nothing. Just the croaking of forest frogs. By now, I was thoroughly drenched and freezing. I called him again and again. I brought my hands to my arms for warmth.

On and on I went. The woods had grown thicker and made my search tedious. I looked at the darkening sky and was about to give up when a shuffling and thud landed before me. I evenly brought my head to level and glared at the imp.

"You rang?" He said curtly.

His arms were folded loosely in front of him.

"Yes. Several times," I said. " I think I owe you something."

At that the double emeralds retained a cursory glitter. "Oh? And pray tell what might that be?"

I rubbed rain water from my face.

"I didn't know you had built the pen and stable for Rossel. If I had, I would've been more gracious."

I hoped he saw the apology. He did, but now with the ball in his court, he wanted to really put me on the spot. Peter gave a quick birdlike tilt of his head. An act that was disturbing to watch.

"Is that your idea of an apology? Because I do not accept. You struck me and quite hard I might add. I want a real 'I'm sorry' from you or I'll leave."

Peter widened his eyes for emphasis. I hated it when he did that; it made him seem truly inhuman. He wanted me to actually say the words. I grimaced. Thought, he was right in part. I did hit him and I probably shouldn't have. So, I grit my teeth and kept my gaze.

"Fine. I'm sorry I hit you on account that you went out of your way. But I'm not sorry that I did it because of your rude and cruel comments to Rossel." I stated lifting my chin.

Peter tucked in his lips, forming a line. It was a half apology, I admit. But he needed to know that his behavior would not be tolerated. Clearly he was unaccustomed to being given limits for he pensively stared at the sodden ground.

"He is a beast you realize. One that cannot be trusted."

I stood there silent. The rain becoming periphery.

"He thinks nothing of killing and murdering living creatures."

"I am aware of what he is," I said.

"Do you? For I think you do not. This thing is not a drawing in one of your faerie books. He is as real as you or I. As bloodthirsty as a wolf and as cunning as a fox. Kelpie are known for their elusiveness and malice. Simply surviving is a feat. You mastering him will only put you into more danger."

"I know. Rossel will kill me if he is set free." I replied with a shaky hand. Damn I was cold!

"No. Not from the kelpie. The kelpie is unable to harm its master. I'm talking about others. Powerful beings who will seek your power and your kelpie. Having him in your possession escalates your worth. Can you imagine? An adult with the belief in faeries as well as a kelpie is a rare prize. No doubt Finvarra, Mab, and others have heard already. They will come for you in time."

I shivered. Peter had become so serious, those eyes were hard and unwavering. He came closer and continued.

"Queen Mab will move, I know it. Finvarra will more than likely bide his time. The one who concerns me the most however is Hook. He's been unusually quiet of late. That is not like him at all."

Capitan Hook. Peter's arch nemesis and rival. I tried my best not to shake but did. I was so cold from the rain that I shook as if in fear. Peter saw me and took my being freezing for actual trepidation. Before I could say anything, he came to me and took my arms. He started rubbing them in swift motions up and down, using friction to warm me up. I noticed that his hands were dry and soothing and the girly part of my mind flashed back to when he kissed me. He had been this close then too. I blushed and looked away.

"What's wrong? Your face is red are you ill?"

Peter leaned around to catch my eye.

"No. Just hot, you're like a living furnace with those hands." I joked.

Taking that as a point, Peter stopped rubbing my arms. I wasn't blind to the fact that he stayed where he was. I felt the heat from his body, I felt the way his form towered over mine. It all made me feel so anxious. The downpour had slowed a bit and I gradually turned to look at him. The rain had soaked his clothes, making them stick to his skin. I saw the strong shoulders, the toned chest. The rain had also caused his fiery red locks to fall alluringly over his eyes. All of this seemed unfair to me. No matter what happened to them, fae always appeared beautiful. I, on the other hand, knew I looked like a wet dishrag and felt embarrassed. That is another thing the fae do to you, they steal your morale. Peter was no exception.

The sharp bones of his face were outlined in streaks of auburn. Those large emeralds of his were lined in dark lashes and the creamy luster of his skin glowed. I followed a raindrop as it made its way down over his cheek to his jaw and neck. When it disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt, I felt the heat rise to my face as I knew that he knew I was studying him.

Peter did not show anything of the sort but merely parted his lips as if to speak. He tightened his hold on me gently. I stared up at him and I saw myself in his eyes. As I knew he saw himself in mine.

Peter watched me for so long that I nearly forgot we were standing outside getting wet. I didn't mind though. I felt…safe. It was as if all that transpired before meant nothing. Was he putting another spell on me? I brought my hands to grip his wrists. My touch must have dislodged his trance for he abruptly cleared his throat and let me go.

Taking a few steps back, he swung his arms back and forth, clapping them together.

"We should be heading back. I'm positively saturated. The last thing I want is to be ill."

The heat of his hands quickly dissipated, the spell was broken, and I gave a large eye roll. "You can't get sick."

"No. but the possibility of it frightens me."

"Of course it would," I said. "C'mon. let's go."


End file.
